Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 406(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
My heart pounded. Mouth dry. “I’m already fucked until I pass out, Andy. Knackered. My feet are sore, and I’m already in bed.”
“I’ll call you a taxi, and I’ll be waiting, right here. No dicking about, Faye, are you in, or out?”
I rolled onto my side, smiling into my pillow. “Goodnight, Andy. I’ll see you later.”
It felt strangely liberating to end the call.
***
Chapter Five
Faye
Andy punished me hard for my refusal. Not in a good way, either.
Seven days straight. Seven days of corporate professionalism. Seven days on the bar with Topaz and hardly a word from Andy to either of us.
He breezed by, barked out orders, and left us to it. Day after day after day.
I took it at first, sucked it up and did my job. I learnt the ropes and kept the regulars smiling, resuming friendships with the old crowd and striking up new ones. My old friend, Raven, brought me into the loop on her burlesque night Thursdays, and together we tweaked old plans and made new ones. I met her girlfriend, Cara, and she threw some ideas into the pot for an Explicit Dirty Dancing contest, with a gold plated dildo trophy for the winners. We had great ideas, and lots of them. Perfect ideas for taking Club Explicit into a whole new era. A community era.
I took them to Andy, but he merely grunted, unimpressed.
As the second week started I’d had enough. More than enough. I was pissed off and riled up, and sick to fucking death of his dismissive sulking. I’d had a bad morning.
A really bad morning.
I didn’t grace him with a knock at the door. I charged in with purpose, armed with a can of polish, a feather duster and enough determination to pull down the Berlin wall single-handed. I pulled my old desk from the corner, dumping the printer, and shredder and piles of old paperwork on the floor, and then I cleaned it. Dusted it off with gusto as he watched me from across the room.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What does it look like?” I snapped. “I’m sick of playing barmaid. You pushed it too far.”
“I haven’t even started yet.”
“I’m a fifty-fifty partner, I’m done with your sulking.” I dragged the desk across the room until it lined up with his, just like old times. Then I wheeled the spare chair around, grabbed a handful of biros and an Explicit notepad from the stationery drawer. “Where can I get a phone?”
“You don’t need a phone,” he grunted. “Or a desk.”
“Fine. I’ll take yours.” I’d grabbed his handset before he could stop me, trailing it to my station and plonking it down on the corner.
He scowled as he came to claim it back. “Don’t be so fucking childish. I need that.”
“You’re the one who’s being childish,” I said. “I didn’t fuck you. So what? I was tired, I had blisters on my feet, and I was in bed. This is ridiculous, Andy. Fucking ridiculous. Maybe I did want to fuck you. Maybe I would have done, if you hadn’t been such a fucking prick about the whole thing. You could’ve just asked again. A different night, but that would have been too reasonable, wouldn’t it? Too easy?”
“Have you finished? You think this is all because you said no to sex? Do I look like some kind of desperado to you?”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, of course not. I was drunk. You made the right call.”
“I made a tired call.”
“You said you’d work bar, you’re working bar.” He stole the phone back. “That’s what we agreed. That’s what you agreed.”
“Not like this!” I hissed. “Pulling pints while you ignore me 24/7.”
“And what did you expect it to be like? Us holding hands and skipping about the place like nothing ever happened? This isn’t the fucking Waltons. Get back to the bar, Faye, do your fucking job.”
I folded my arms. “My job is here.”
“We played for it, you lost. A deal’s a deal.”
“So, we play again.”
“Nice try.”
“Don’t do this.” I slammed my palms on the desk. “I’m good at what I do, that’s why we went into business. I know what I’m talking about. I have ideas, good creative ideas. Don’t fucking ignore me, Andy. I won’t be fucking ignored!”
“Drink delivery arrives midday. You can rearrange the spirits. Get as creative as you fucking like.”
“I’m not arranging the fucking spirits! I’m not leaving this room. It’s my office, too!”
He tugged the desk away from me, angling it back towards the corner until I slapped his hands and attacked his fingers. “Stop it, Faye. You’re making a fool of yourself.” I fought him like a kid, clinging onto the desk leg like a limpet, holding tight as he tried to shove it back where it came from. I gave it up with a sigh, yanking his tie in frustration so hard it almost toppled him off balance. “What the hell’s got into you?”